'SNO ANGEL TOUR (April 21 - May 20) Summer 2006
APRIL 21 2006 - TUCSON
I decide to take on the fast. I can just slip in enough days and still have that final morning of poco cosa salsa on my way out of town when I head to the airport. The massive ‘sno angel tour is impending. It begins for me may 1. I can jump on the lemonade fast for about 6 days and then jump off in time to hit the road. Give everything up. Clean up.
I got to get ready.
During this time I am not myself. I am wobbled from the lack of meals, which in itself is indication of how much I need to stop eating and drinking too much junk. I am free now, but wobbled. I am wobbled at the cat power show. It is about the best live show I have seen and I want to talk to chan, but I am too wobbled. I am wobbled hanging there with neko. I was wobbled playing piano for chris Scruggs there in the studio. The only time the wobble feels safe is watching my son at his basketball practice in the school yard. The winds blow through me. They are strong and certain. The sun stains my back and the light bouncing off the young players is startling. It is a sunset mirror on small humans.
I am wobbled.
MAY 1
Jumped off the fast on Sunday.
Headed down to poco cosa on Monday, but they were closed because of another mexican solidarity march. I leave a note. Right before I head to the airport, Sandra from poco co shows up at the house with some salsa to go.
That helps.
Leaving for the airport, I have exactly 10 minutes to spare, if I want to make my plane on time and arrive at the very last minute allowable. I chose to vote first, just to see if I can, and still make the plane. I play these kind of games heading to the airport, always daring the plane to leave without me. Daring destiny to alter its course, but always end up making the plane even when I think I shouldn’t.
So then I end up sitting on the tarmac in a middle seat back in coach for almost 2 hours. Big winds in chicago dictate. I am thankful for the fast. I fit in between these large humans much better now.
The end.
MAY 2 - OTTAWA
I am homeless. Thought I would use the price line dot com method of hotel stay to get me through the day to day. Worked the first night, but now I am sunk. The town is sold out because of a tulip festival.
I’m stumped.
When I head down to check out, the woman at the front desk who woke me to kick me out, now remembers me from staying here last time. She finds me a room for the next 2 nights and then discounts it.
I once was lost but now I’m found.
I walk off to the embassy to get more pages for my passport book cause all my pages are used up. They tell me at the embassy they are closed. Will have to try back the day before we leave. Otherwise england always has a problem when my passport has no room for them to stamp me in.
- - - that night we attempt a rehearsal at dave’s studio.
- It is that overwhelming feeling of focusing back in to this matter of business from so many years ago. I intend to wrap it around me, but at the moment I am just enjoying eating again. Too many things to do. It all might be too much. I will wait and see when the mind just shuts off again. That has happened a lot with the infinite details of setting this tour up. The mind just shuts down when it gets besieged with an overwhelming amount of information.
After having a meeting with the choir and fielding all their sweet questions, I go off to the manx alone for a dinner and a wine. I leave and pick up some carrots for the hotel room.
MAY 3
So today I spent the morning like an office worker. At the desk here in this hotel room, doing up all kind of things. Lap top stuff. Amazing amount of details that seems to wait for you to water it, and then buds and blooms.
Like an allergy waiting to happen.
I hit my usual favorite little restaurant for lunch.
2 blocks away and perfect after the fast.
Italian.
The rehearsal tonight turned a corner for me. I was more there. And then the choir surprised me with their version of ‘mountain of love’. It was a big slice of original inspiration for me. They also showed off some of their choreography for the funky tunes. And we were all able to work up this idea I have of an encore that marries my sweet lord in to oh happy day….but have not told them yet about me starting it off with walk on the wild side… I might save that for the first night live.
The night ended with lucie idlout coming into town with a friend. We sat up most of the night in a dingy hotel room going round robin singing songs. Her friend casandra brought along the most severely amazing ancient wurlitzer piano I have ever witnessed.
We set it up in the room and had at it.
MAY 4
Got up at the crack. Got to the US embassy before they opened. Needed to get those passport pages. Everything goes ok, but they cannot do a decent name check on me. Something is amiss they think. I wait. And then I wait. After a while I wait some more. Eventually they just over ride the system and let me out of there. But the name check thing never panned out. I might not be really me after all.
This could be a relief.
Last rehearsal tonight. A fairly quick one. Then jeremy gara shows up and we head off to dinner atop the spinning restaurant there in the center of the city. Every time I make the mistake of taking my hat off and placing it on the ledge next to me, it slowly disappears… riding on the spin. Jeremy and I get a rare chance to talk. We both be tickled by the critical success of this record we recorded, and by the band arcade fire he’s now in and their upcoming recording endeavors.
The night spins slowly. I retire early. I am in the crown plaza, because of the gamble of price line dot com, and they only offer me a stanky smoking room. I shove myself off to sleep to just try and get to the morning.
MAY 5
The bus. We all get there early. It seems more like this tour will actually happen now, but I always remain unconvinced till we are all aboard the plane. The choir however has not heeded my warning of traveling light. They have a stunning array of large suitcases, each combined with a smaller satellite suitcase attached. I tried several times to make this clear, but they need to find out for themselves now. Traveling with too much stuff on the road diminishes the treasures of momentum.
So we bus it to montreal. Get on board. We take off, and now it feels like we are on tour. Everyone is a glee. No problems at passport control. 13 of us and no problems yet.
We fly into the next day.
MAY 6
Arrival in Brussels. Its easy. The hotel needs us to wait for our rooms. Most everyone falls asleep in the big lobby chairs. I go for a walk in the turkish section there. Every other store front is a turkish pizza joint or a barber shop.
This night I manage to take everybody out to my favorite italian restaurant. This is no small event, but its good practice to try and make a move with 14 people like this. All goes well. Then it’s over to the outdoor café section where I usually hang when I’m in town. Also nice. Then the choir heads back to practice and me and the band take in the old jazz bar ‘the arch`duc’ just for good luck. They like that just fine. Then hotel home.
MAY 7 = BRUSSELS
Natalie showed up with her daughter bruna to try to tour manage us some. We show up for sound check and there is never really enough time. We are set up unlike we all decided we were going to set up. Then off to dinner.
I dress all in black with a big turquoise bolo tie and grey hat with brown lizard shoes. The choir has all dressed in white and khaki. We commence. The crowd seems to adore. I am surprised by the weight of it all. It has an enjoyable thrust. It’s only the first show ever, so it is not perfect, but way way better then any first show I have ever been privy to.
MAY 8 = BONN
The train.
This is the part of the trip that is all of us traveling by train. 16 of us now, with sound man, and tons of luggage. This is us by train. This is the big test. We make the first train on time. Ride it the 2 hours to koln. Then I decline the connecting time of 8 minutes by sending the band and choir off to go check out the giant ‘dome’ cathedral which is just above the station there. It’s a perfect tourist op. We pile the ton of baggage in a coffee shop near the platform. Anders, bruna and I wait with that heap. Then an hour later we catch the next train to bonn… and just as I figured, the duration was short enough so our now incorrect tickets will not be checked. I will have successfully snuck on 16 people on a german train with all that baggage.
Bonn is a small town on a lovely spring day. The kind of day you remember from your childhood or old movies. White birch trees sway in the breeze.
Blooms bloom in multitudes.
Its an effort to figure out the taxi situation with all of us and the bags. Some of us walk after we load up a couple of large taxi vans. The hotel has no elevator. Folks are figuring out now how much luggage not to bring next time. They now marvel at my little bag, but that took years to whittle down.
The hotel is cozy and clean. The breeze comes in and hangs out. The beds are deliriously comfortable. The vibe is slow and leisurely. Sleep deep for an hour. Then sound check. Another 4 taxis to the club… this time without bags.
The club is mostly an outdoor beer garden. But the stage is not bad inside, and it fills up good. Tonight we sound like we have played together for a long time. It is a very fine night. After we have dinner I keep trying not to sign autographs. Already word is spreading that I do not sign things anymore, and it is very interesting to see some of the old timey collector folks struggle with believing that. But when I do sign something, the signature has eroded severely now.
It is barely an X now with a dot or two.
We pile in another 4 cabs back to the hotel then. There is a sweet little beer garden tucked away in the back yard there. We attempt to linger, but the usual lack of sleep on the road coaxes me back up to slumber land while the youngest choir girls hang out with the road encrusted band dudes.
MAY 9 = BERLIN
Show was held in a church. A beautiful spring night unfolds. The place fills up. About 600 people with some stuck outside. We commenced at 8 pm. Done by 9:30.
It was an extraordinary night. The encore with walk on the wild side, my sweet lord, and o happy day was resounding.
Afterwards, we have mexican food. A very good omen. Amen.
MAY 10 = TRAVEL DAY: berlin to london
So we end up avoiding a demonstration that has tangled traffic in town, and still got to the airport 3 hours early. We couldn’t check in till 2 hours prior so we settled in and found some food. I am never happy being early for the airport.
Too unnatural.
I had already missed at least one interview because of not being able to check any ‘heads up’ on my email, so it seemed I should get my lap top out and make sure I am up to date with word from headquarters. Eventually I settle in a small office shop. They have internet and I click on for the minimum. Right before my time is up, sound man anders appears all frantic. He acts mystified by my disappearance because it’s past the 2 hour check in time. I am mystified by his mysticism. So then we check in and there is no problem with all our tonnage of baggage. O happy day.
There can be no getting upset out here in the flow. That loss of control only adds to the confusion. What you need here on the road with so many people is at least the illusion of organization, and then actual organization often falls in behind the simulation. So we talk. I am the old man. I offer up some evidence in story book fashion.
Losing it means losing it.
We land in luton, outside London, greeted by steve left, trusty tour manager since 1989. Natalie did a good job. She’s from Belgium. She tied all the loose ends in a sweet bow of her disposition. Anders comes from denmark, and the thing about the danes is that they always move in a pack. It’s a stunning thing. They look out for each other and they always make a move together. In the states we are rogues. Free radical movement. Lost cowboy mentality.
The 2 vans are large and seem comfortable. Tomorrow will be john parish and posse in Bristol. Meanwhile, dave draves, co-producer and engineer of the record, has shown up from ottawa to complete the band. It’s been a good travel day, with a slight tinge of muck. It will be the only day off we can afford with so many people on the road.
We are 17 now.
MAY 11 = BRISTOL
We pull into Bristol during its normal traffic turmoil at about 3:00. Drop the stuff off at the hotel, and head to the venue. It turns out to be a converted church. John parish shows up and we head off together to find a guitar shop to fix my 1952 Gibson. The luthier says he thinks he can have it done by 5:30. john and I wander off to hang out some. I throw in some laundry at a laundry mat, and him and I take in a half pint of bitter. Then over to adrian utley’s place for nice cuppa. He’s busy there working on the next portishead record. His house has a great view looking over the city. Then its time to fetch the Gibson and grab the washing.
It’s all back up and running again.
I head back to john’s house and visit the family until the traffic dies down. Then back to the church. As he drops me off, a fellow with crippled legs falls off his crutches in front of me and hits his head hard on the jagged rocks there. I help him in to the club, back stage, bleeding like a river from his skull. His girlfriend shows up, and she is a nurse, so its all ok eventually. 2 women are looking after things there; mary and kale. They in turn keep an eye on the poor bleeder. They also seem like sirens their amongst the jagged harbor. A man could easily crash upon their rocks.
I have been messaged by plant and polly that they both cannot make the show tonight. It dispels some, but then the excitement of finally playing england with this group kicks in. Vetiver opens the show and sound pretty good to me too.
We take the stage and make some serious zing.
Yep. Zing. It’s a wonderful night of playing again.
The band sounds even fuller now with draves on organ, and the joy of having steve left tour manage is again a huge relief. there is now so much less I have to concern over, and so instead just focus in on the delivery of the songs. It is the first night I am able to get through the entire set list without help from the lyric sheets. I trade a cd for a wallet made from the opening band’s singer’s girlfriend who plays cello. Not leather at all, made from an old tennis racket cover.
It’s a fun and sweaty show. It’s a spine tingle and a glow.
At the very end my guitar strap wrangles around and catches the mic stand and topples it, the way I used to knock things over in my endless tangle mucks. But this time, unbeknownst to anyone, I cannot get out of the predicament because of my frozen shoulder. And this cracks me up more and keeps me tangled longer. I have to hook my arm out of the strap in such a strange way, against the weight of the mic stand which I have caught with my foot when it was falling.
The end.
After the show, maria and john and michelle and their friends all hang for a bit. Just before that I practice my ‘no autograph’ rule. It works most of the time. And the guitar worked beautifully, in many ways, better then ever.
There will be a 5 star review in the daily UK independent on this show. First time for me to ever have such a live review. Severe yippity.
MAY 12 = NEWCASTLE
Ah. Geordies. My fave. I love it here. The gateshead sage looks over the town across the river tyne. A lovely setting. Today the cherry blossoms were a flutter. The city a buzz on a Friday. We performed very well. the crowd not shouting back much this time, unlike most times here, as if they might be done in by the weight of the sound. We also launched 2 new songs tonight: ‘spiral’ and ‘ballad of the tucson 2’ with its new complex choir chordings on the part just before the chorus. The band plays it tight now too. I am amazed at how well structured the song is and how much fun it is to play with all the pieces combined. Plus, it gives a good loud shout to the cause. We begun it with a brief verse/chorus from ‘underground train’, the 20 year old song of similar scenario.
It was a tight set too. We took the stage slightly late and this provided the challenge of fitting all the tunes in by editing out some of the stuff that doesn’t need to be there.
That in turn increased the pace of the 2nd half a bit which aided in spirit. I loved it. So did the choir, band and crowd.
After wards, we hit the hotel, way outside town, and went back into town to shove a couple of pints into the night.
It was patrick’s birthday. The pub was a buzz.
It was the first night courtney tidwell opened the evening for us. She was spunked and spirited. Wyndham wallace is on board then to watch over her from his new berlin label. He used to run city slang in london. He used to put out the calexico records.
The end.
MAY 13 = LONDON SORT OF; BLACKHEATH
Long drive. We show up on time. No food at the venue. No nothing. No good. The end.
But the hall was beautiful and large. Pianos all over the place. The stage had a theatrical pitch, so the grand had to be set up in front of the stage, which was a big jump down. During the show I would be able to hang out down there with my wireless guitar, then bound back up to the stage off the piano bench.
It was a good show, but could not connect as well with the crowd vibe. They were seated too far back from the stage and the lights were blinding. I could not make out a single soul there. Had to keep that in check and make it seem more intimate. The choir was joyous per usual. And the new songs took on a heightened glory.
A very good night again.
The town of blackheath was a great discovery. There is a giant hill, kind of flat on top. A large spans of grassy field. Nothing on top of it. No trees at all. Apparently it is where the black plague had made the towns folk of London bury massive graves there with heaps of bodies piled upon heaps. And they say that there the plague lives for about 1000 years, and so they are not too excited about ever digging in that field yet.
Back at the hotel, we gather in room 77 and listen to the stream of Ottawa hockey. Its not good. They lose in overtime to the buffalo sabers.
The end.
Come morning I venture out across that heath. Maybe nothing grows there because of the amount of lime they have dumped on top of the mass graves. When I get to the end, I cross into greenwhich park and follow that to its edge, which fantastically looks out over the city of London.
MAY 14 = READING
Another glorious venue. Stunning. We go for a walk behind the place and run into some ruins of an abbey from the 1100s, which is also right beside a modern prison, where oscar wild had been jailed, and now has a bloke screaming at the free folk below from the high tower window there. It all lends itself, but Bryson is disturbed by it. it does have a haunting attached to it. I think maybe because us musicians always feel just a slight step away from said incarceration.
The show this night is a spectacular thing. Magnificent. We have changed the set list a bit and it stands up way high.
Afterwards …I amble across the street and meet some folks.
Celion and haley and olie and james. Then another table with a boat load of folks who were at the show. It s a sleepy Sunday but oddly comfortable here in reading. They all offer congrats and beers if needed. But I head back to the venue. Lemmy has shown up from italy and brought cheeses.
And then I bound off alone. Hit the streets and try and get lost by myself. Nothing happens. I am alone in a bar where everyone who works there has to wear pirate hats.
Not good.
MAY 15 = BBC 2 MANCHESTER
We have had to separate today. Left the other half of the band and choir at the holiday inn express in reading, made even more sad by them just sitting there in the ugly americanized lobby with a power shut-off and an incessant door alarm ringing. They seemed completely removed from these depleteings however. It was just my scene to carry.
So 5 members of the choir and 3 of us band men are to go off and have a 4 hour drive on our one day off to play at a live bbc 2 radio show this evening with mark Radcliff. It should be interesting to see what we sound like with this stripped down line-up. If it works it could offer up a plan B possibility to certain shows out there that cannot afford the whole shebang. So it is cristine, jerusha, neema, faith and Patrick from the choir, and fred, andrew and me from band land, with steve left at the helm. The rest of the band and choir will head off to London proper and have the day off.
- - - -
We do the show. It’s not bad. The dialogue between me and mark was fluid I think. I liked him a lot. He had great timing and seamless delivery. His mix of tunes were wonderful. So we set up and got to it. 3 songs in his 90 minute show. We were half a band and half a choir due to logistic restraints set by the booking agency and record company and space of the place. I was against doing this with anything less then the full entourage, but went with what the dust settled on. For some reason we played the 1st song way too fast. The drums kicked it off. And the grand lack of low end combined with the slam of the radio compression made the whole sound like something the chipmunks might have recorded. The 2nd faired a bit better, but still lacked that enjoyable lope and delve I thought. It simply suffered from the whole band and choir not being there. The 3rd song was the ballad of the Tucson 2, something brand new, and that one did ok I think.
Anyhow. There it was. I bailed out of the van on the way back to the hotel. Me and neema and christine went and had some impromptu Chinese food at 1:00 am. The talk was good. They are both from Africa. Tanzania and Kenya. Everybody’s lives are the same mostly. Tragedy and comedy. Romances and happenstances. The end.
- — - - -
MAY 16 = LONDON
So… we get up way too early to make the long drive back to London for the show tonight. Up and out the door by 8:00. Pick the independent newspaper today and the entire issue is edited by bono. It wreaks havoc on me. It focuses in on the notorious aids epidemic in Africa.
Next up, there is already some problems with having maria shoot some video of the show tonight, let alone the confusion with her friend steve to also do so.
The venue wants us to pay up for the privilege.
I am tinged with the bends I believe. Even breakfast at the truck stop began to piss me off. I wonder if I am letting my self get angry because London always seems like an important show, so maybe this is some involuntary way of dealing with the stress of that.
Or not. Maybe things just suck today. Ok then, suck away.
- - - - -
Arrival at saint lukes is a subtle delight. The venues continue to impress and inspire. I also figure out what the distortion has been coming out of my amp. Done. Then we do up another new old song, ‘ astonished ‘. It sounds like a dream with the choir and band.
After sound check, we opt to walk a bit and find a good old style pub. Its this kind of moment that allows the feeling of a momentary holiday. The band all congregate in a dark comfortable pub while the young women of the choir go off shopping nearby. It’s a family here on the road again.
Or a small town.
I am in a much better mood. The folks here at st. lukes and the barbican folks promoting it are all very sweet and it’s contagious. I try and set up some folks to film the night but have to pay about 300 bucks for the privilege. Very costly, especially when 2 of the 3 camera operators cannot get their equipment in time for the show. So it is left to only maria to film with her mini cam.
Funnily enough the choir decides on their most casual dress to date. Denim and white. So the band goes on denim and black. We play a very tight elegant set. But maybe the length is now bloated just a bit from all the new songs. I will have to cut a tune or two from now on. And also we opt not to do the walk on the wild side, my sweet lord medley and just launch straight into o happy day. And I think it lacked the sheer tickle of glee from finding our way from point A to point B.
But the piano songs came across extremely beautific tonight. Especially the brand new ‘astonished’. Apparently dinosaur jr. were in the house, but I did not go back out to mingle after the show. I was having a full time just saying hello to well wishers and agents and such back stage. Stewart lee showed up with bridget, the feel good couple of the year, and was good to hang a bit. And the new agent who brought us all over here for this tour was there as well the usual old agent, whom both needed some time to chat. And then, London was over. Everybody filed out fairly quick.
I was left alone back stage gathering my stuff, thinking about things. Tucking some clothes in my small bag. Wondering about the worth of it all. Thinking about the family back home. Thinking about the workload. Thinking how lucky I am with this choir attached to me.
Maybe a little prayer escapes.
Some thanks in there.
Amble out into the night. Feel the wonderful heavy moist air chilled to perfection. Decided to walk back to the hotel and get a little lost instead of riding in the van. Some others came along. A good walk home from work.
That night just the band and the choir gathered in the hotel bar still feeling so delighted in that hang time. Lemmy from italy and nickie the photographer came along too. sometimes you pick up on the folks thoughts hanging with us and how much they enjoy the warmth of contingency.
The day breaks apart into small particles and ends there.
MAY 17 = BIRMINGHAM
I have to wake up early. 8:00 am again. Have to go to work. Head down to a radio interview there in London. BBC 6 digital station. The dj is over the top with accolades about the new record. It feels so funny and unfamiliar to deal with such glee over one of my own records. I take it in with slight tickle, like enjoying a fine lunch but ends when the meal is gone.
They have a copy of giant sand’s first record there from 1985 that they were playing earlier In the show. We look very young on the back cover photo. It’s of the band; tommy, scott and me at the cathey de grand punk rock club in los angeles back in the early 80s. The dj phill said they got calls very interested in wanting to know what the music was when they played it. it occurred to me that that was the one thing rainer and I had decided to do so long ago; to make records that would stand up 20 years later. In hopes they would not embarrass. I am happy with the ilk of mine, though his records seem to soar way higher now more then ever.
Ok then. we play a track from Isobel and lanagen’s record.
And I am off to a couple more interviews, then back to the bus. And we ride in the rain up to Birmingham. I wonder if Robert will show tonight to sing o happy day. He had done so with Victoria Williams back up in pioneer town last month. I lament the absence of polly during this run. I find it funny how much I miss her when she’s never usually there anyhow.
— - — - -
We hit Birmingham in the hissing rain. I like it. The venue tonight is a club, not a hall like the rest. It’s called glee. On the way up I happened to break out the moana glee club for a listen. The end.
The backstage is tiny with us all crammed in there, as if we actually stretched it out some by the time we left. Anyhow, since it was a club tonight and raining out, I authorized the use of the scotch prior to the show. The audience came in and set up very close to the stage. It was going to be good doing a club show after all the big halls. And so we hit the set hard. The folks there liked it. They were a great crowd. And brave too, since they had to chose between the big football match on the tube tonight.
Well ok. We left em satisfied. Robert plant was a no show.
The end.
Back to the hotel, which was like a skanky ‘shining’ hotel. But on the tv was a poker match between denmark and france. Never seen that before. Yip.
MAY 18 = GLASGOW
Tonight’s hotel has a ‘barton fink’ feel. What gives? I get the suicide room. It’s on the 4th floor. they are renovating that floor. Every room is stripped down to the ancient floor boards. So many things that have never gotten cleaned. I walk down a truly endless hall way.
All the rooms doors are open down that walk and show off the old floor boards and filth and scrapings of chipped lead paint and crumble. When I get to my room, its down a little cul-de-sac hall. The room has humungous windows with that kind of curvy panes you can’t see through. Of course the room is dark except for the blur blare of the outside light, but every time it begs you to have a peak, them visionless windows bite your eyes.
I turn on the tv instead to look outside. Its an old episode of ‘the big valley’. The rich rancher brothers are being held in a prison by a warden who send his men out to arrest people for no reason. The beautiful sister back home on the ranch feigns concern. Then the scene is back to the prison where one of the brothers is being strung up for a whipping.
I got to change rooms.
— - - - - -
My new room is even further away. About 2 miles from the elevator. But it’s the 3rd floor, no renovations, and is huge. The bathroom is about the size of a ballroom. It looks out over the magnificent rooftops of Glasgow and their stunning facades in corrosive brilliance.
Lucky for us, the club is in walking distance, which is always good luck. But the innards were also voluminous.
It shrunk us for a bit. The folks there seemed keen on us.
Maybe it’s just their normal overall welcome way, but it felt like the place was happy for us to come to play.
The show that night had that singular northern spirit. You begin to feel it the more north you go from London. When you get to Scotland, there is something big about it. Folks are tough, but with a severe willingness to partake in merriment. The show was a spirited one. Lots of fun on stage. We played everything we knew tonight. Even “shiver” and “astonished” without a piano. And we went back to the original medley encore, except with “ballad of the tucson 2” thrown in first, and a dollop of “underground train” prior to that. Worked up a righteous sweat. Soaked.
When it was all over, the band and choir was ecstatic from the set still. I slipped off to have a drink with some folks in the quiet bar there in the club. Some fine crack there. Or however you spell it. Met up with the 2 ians who came all the way to Tucson last September for the 20th year anniversary. This time with their wives, who were also dancing up front near the end, which always helps. And met up with the edmonton fellow who had me play at his little club years ago. He said he will try to get me over for the summer maybe at his new club. And then a woman there with enough charm to get me to commit to some benefit shows here that would take me to other even more northern regions of the country at some point later. But no Isobel Campbell. The omens were leading up to what I thought was going to be a run in with her here, but nope. The end.
- — - - - - -
MAY 19 = MANCHESTER
More sleep then I have had all tour. 8 hours solid. Then we hit the road, already reading a review of the Glasgow show in the morning herald. Nice one.
When we pulled into Manchester, the club is in the university building. Folks there are charming enough but there is too much tangle of steps and halls and elevators and no humpers to help. It almost sucks. Plus fred discovers his bag of pedals is a miss. Him and I go off to just catch a closing music store, and purchase a couple things for him. It changes his sound for the better this night.
The choir has changed into yet another outfit I have not ever seen them in before. This helps explain their massive luggage tote I reckon. A woman appears out of nowhere back stage, walks up to me and gives me a startling kiss, hands me a cd. Then I recognize her as the lead singer form the band that opened for us last time giant sand played in town here. I remember them sounding very good then. she looked completely different, and so I enjoyed the moment of startle, which never really happens anymore.
It is the first night on the tour that chairs were not set up. The crowd was on their feet from the onslaught, and this helped a great deal to get them well into it. it has been uncomfortable for the audience to get up and stand once they are seated. So this was a happy happenstance. We rocked for them. maybe it was the most rocking night yet.
Me and fred had some wonderful crazy duels. I brought Courtney Tidwell up in mid song to sing with us on “robes of bible black”, it being her final night with us. Lovely.
Then we slammed the encore hard and left in a stately triumph, soaked again. the facility shut down fast around us. We had not eaten yet today. It was midnight. It takes forever to unload by ourselves, with steve left doing all the pack up himself. Steve will me a poppa soon, and his momma to be was their for a visit. Sweet.
Then the hotel was a big drag again. way out of the way and modern cheapness, motel style crap. Takes forever again to get back into town to find some food. Forever to order. Forever to get back. The usual linger with multitude on empty stomachs when the day has taken its toll and delivers only exhaustion now.
Finally back to sleep land. its after 2. we have to be in the van tomorrow by 8. My phone does not work in the room.
Sucks. Need a family fix.
Morning comes and the fire alarms all start screaming at painful levels because apparently mat used some foot spray that sent a cloud of muck up to the ceiling. It felt like permanent damage. Outa there.
Tonight will be the last show. Rumble in brighton. The handsome family will be there too, just like family.
Then the long flight home tomorrow.
- - - - - - - -
We arrive about mid day in brighton.
The weather is perfect for brighton. Damp and fresh and chilled and windy. Back home its already 100 º. I take it in and can’t get enough of that air in my lungs. But its also been a short night of sleep and there is some work to do in email land. so I venture in to the venue. It’s a massive elegant place called the dome. It will seat 1500 people tonight and be sold out for us and the handsome family.
I spend most of the afternoon sorting out some emails and eyeing my luggage to figure what not to bring back to Arizona. Its always good to jettison the extra weight collected on tour. There is just no room and the extra lug of it does not work. I am finally able to head out for a 30 minute walk before dinner. I grab steve left so we can hang a bit. Anders joins in too.
We head to the sea of course. On the way there my cell phone rings. It’s Isobel Campbell. a happy surprise. The omens have been pointing toward a meet up with her, but when it didn’t take place in glasgow, I figured something’s wrong with the omens. Now walking and talking on the phone in England is very tricky. The cars attack you from different directions when you cross the street of course.
And then we round the bend and the wind kicks in and it’s howling a gale. I can barely hear her at times on the phone, but at the same time I am hooked by the sound of her voice. When she says making music confuses her, I am sold.
I do not want to let her chirp out of my lobe, but the wind is scraping it out to sea violently.
I put up a pretty good fight, until we agree to have at it at some other point. After I hung up, I was wondering why I didn’t get hooked to her voice from her record. But here on the phone I couldn’t get enough. Maybe there is something I can do about that up there in the future.
- - - - so we walk down to the sea and out on a long stone pier thing and the water slams against it, rises up and whips us with a salty wave. The ocean is severely tormented and in full rage. I am able to hang on to my hat, but just.
We head back to dinner then, but run into the entire rest of the band at a sweet little pub along the way. So yeah we go in and partake for a moment. Then we all head back down to the sea for a quick video of us all being battered by the waves coming over the walls.
Ok then…
The show this night will be sedate compared to how rocking it was in Manchester and Glasgow. Even Birmingham was way more rocking. I am not sure why. It was a great set, but I thought it might be bloated again with too much material maybe. Although certain high lights like “astonished” and “dirty from the rain” as well as the usual nuggets from ‘sno angel…but also especially “spiral” all go down very very well.
I think more then anything it is the big stage and how spaced out we are set up. It steals the vibe a bit amongst us. I have gotten severely used to th echoir being right behind me and pulsating there. Anyhow, we get through it good enough. And then we all just stay back stage and enjoy each other. Hang with the Sparks and event folks and let the tour slip away under us tonight. I strip off the sweaty duds and the hot shower save my life. Sip the last sip and head out into the night with my posse like it was a small town on wheels. Me and steve know a little fish and chip shop, we fill up the troops. 9 fish and chip to go for our van, and then pass the other van stopping for there’s.
And ok then. we drive the hour or so to the London airport hotel. I sit up front with steve driving and we yammer all the way there. Talk about the old times. The tours. The road. The life at home. I love steve. He looks good right now, coming through some hard times the last few years, and looking good now. Everybody here is sweetly taken with his prowess on the road here. The man is righteous.
Sleep comes and sleep goes. The hotel is way modern and space ship like. I can’t find steve’s room to do up the final economics. I am beat. His room is a million miles down some endless halls. I retreat back to my room and to tuck the tour in and put it to bed.
So the morning comes. I repack and leave my bag with anders to take it back to denmark with him. I leave with only my 2 guitars and a small bag of wires and such. One dirty shirt stuck in there too, from the stage.
I am good to go and amazed at such glory. The sound and the brotherhood have surpassed anything I have known.
The end.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
— - - — — - - — removable appendix:
We manage to make our connections in new york after a lengthy passport control line. But this is where we separate now. I am heading home to Tucson for the next 5 days, and the choir and band continue on to Ottawa.
Goodbyes and hugs all around. It’s a thick leavingness that has the heady aspect of seeing each other again in a week in new york, if all goes well with border crossings and such.
So I get to my plane. I am finally allowing myself that moment of solitary joy of a tour gone well. A tour better then any other I have ever been on. I am traveling on a mileage ticket with an upgrade, and the plane is a 767, so the seat is large to allow this moment of celebration and pre flight fizzle drink. Especially after a sweaty long rush to get to the gate with the usual lug and wool coat steam. Then we set on the run way for a long time and it does not matter to me. Its just like flying.
Then we fly off. I glance out the window and see something like 5 huge aircraft flying parallel to us. Its like a dream. How can so many planes fly at the same time so close to each other ?
I am trying to take in all that has just happened on this tour, but it is too much yet to digest. I just stare at the big ships flying out the window, until I realize that they are actually ships and not planes. The line between sky and sea does not exist. It is comprimised in haze.
Weird. Seeing them ships fly like that.
Time for home.
The end.
howe on 09.22.06 @ 08:52 PM GMT [link]
